Our First Moondance

Once upon a certain Wednesday night, Regina Mills was walking home from her weekly visit to her father's grave.  In addition to her usual leaving of callas upon the hollow coffin, she had asked for guidance as to how to get Emma away from Storybrooke for good so she could live in contentment with the son she had named for him.  Upon leaving the mausoleum, she had spotted an apple core; knowing from her years of dark magic that the dead usually revealed answers within fair distance of their resting places, she had taken it as a sign that the answer could be found in her apple orchard, the only orchard in the small, secluded town.

She sighed with relief when she finally spotted the edge-most trees, and her mansion looming not too far in the distance.  The trek had taken a little longer than usual tonight.  Was that just her, or was it something else?  Not like she cared though as she was the one in power here.  No one was happy unless she decreed it so.

Regina smiled as she examined one of her prized red delicious trees.  Thankfully, that impudent Ms. Swan hadn't known that the tree she had irreverently chain-sawed limbs from had produced a crazy amount of seedlings, and every year there were more.  As fast Ms. Swan could try to cut her down, she had reserves at the ready to drive her into the dust, and then some.

"Patience is a virtue, Madam Mayor," came a familiar Scottish accent from behind her.

Mr. Gold had come by to see her like this so many times, but she still found it maddening how he just popped out of nowhere like that.  "Evening, Mr. Gold," she said.  "What do you want?"

"Is it a crime to just want to see you for no random reason at all?"

"There is no randomness in your character at all.  You only come by me if you want something... or..." Regina's features faltered.  He had also been the one to tell her about David Nolan waking up from his coma.  Mr. Gold hadn't come by with more bad news, had he?  As if he had read her mind, the shrewd pawn broker said, "Don't make that face, Regina.  You might actually like this bit of news:  You know I'm a dealer of valuables and handle transactions with timely firmness, and force if necessary.  This time, however, I've come to pay you a long overdue debt."

Last Regina checked, she didn't owe Mr. Gold anything, personal loyalty as a private advisor and confidant exempt, and vice versa.  He motioned with his head to a nearby garden bench and went ahead of her to take a seat.  Her sexy legs, and his slightly lame one, were glad for the rest, and in such a place where everything they were doing could easily be watched, Regina felt secure that Mr. Gold wouldn't try anything funny, even though it was dark and no good citizen of Storybrooke would be up on a moonlit night like this.  'Just like that night,' she thought as she wondered just what the refined businessman could mean by a debt he owed her.
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The ballroom was extravagant.  Swathed in cloth of silver, black, and regal burgundy, and lit by candelabrums so elaborate even Prince Midas gaped in silence at the prospect of them, the party was a feast for the eyes as well as the stomach.  As grand as the sights were, the succulent dishes the cooks had slaved all day to prepare were even grander.  And the grandest thing of all was the guest of honor:  Princess Helena, the legendary "Light of Darkness" and the most eligible maiden in the land.

Currently, she was out among her guests, sulking in a chair away from all the gold-digging young lords who had tried to ask her to dance to increase their chances of getting into her bed.  She had seen it done to her other friends at their coming out parties, and had even prevented some of it from reaching them.  That didn't make her feel any better about it though.

"Oh come on, Helena," said Princess Bianca, her closest princess friend.  "Why so glum and serious tonight?  You're no longer a little girl and will soon be wearing grown-up jewels like Lucia and Amethyst."

"Says the princess who's not even 16 yet and already married," said the dark beauty sullenly, focusing on her friend's white dress as opposed to her face so she wouldn't have to stare at that saccharine smile of hers.  "Honestly, Bianca.  What did you do to hook yourself a man like that?  Suck his face?"

"You know that I'm not like those Arabian girls who will sleep with anything that moves for money."

"Could have fooled me.  And even if I found a guy I liked at this stupid party tonight, I doubt he'd like me back.  You'd probably steal him away too."

"Don't say that.  You'll jinx your chances.  You just have to keep an open heart and open arms.  I have a gut feeling that you'll find an unexpected surprise tonight.  And it'll be even better than the jewels your daddy gave you."

"It'll take a long while for me to believe that, Bianca."

"In the mean time, Helena, why don't I tell you a secret?"  The princess's head shot up at this.  Much as she hated parties, she loved the juicy gossip she could pick up at them and later use to her father's advantage in meetings with the royal council.  She inclined her head closer to Bianca, so close that if she turned her head to the right, the two girls' sets of ruby lips would have touched in an unexpected kiss.  "You remember how I said that if I had a child, I wanted it to have skin as white as snow, hair as black as ebony, and lips as red as blood?"

"Yes," said Helena, remembering how they each had told the other about their ideal child; Helena had been surprised to learn that Bianca wanted it to look like her as opposed to its mother's nicely tan and rustic features... "Wait!  Bee, you're not... are you...?"

"Yes.  I'm pregnant!"

That did it.  She couldn't be here anymore.  Helena picked up the skirts of her ruby dress and excused herself as politely as she could from her former friend's presence.  It was bad enough that Bianca had managed to steal Edward away from her.  Now, hearing she was pregnant with his child felt like witnessing her wedding all over again:  equal parts of deep, seething anger and painful, agonizing sorrow.

She ran out into the torchlit gardens, desperate to get to a place where she could sink to the ground and cry her eyes out.  She felt angry, bored, scared, and sad, all at once, but as crown princess, she knew from her father that she must never show her weakness in public.  A weak ruler would make for a weak people and a nation that was easy to conquer.  But here, in the seclusion of the rose garden maze, just on the edge of King Henry's apple orchard, she could let out her emotion-heavy tears without the chance of anyone seeing... hold on!  Who was that?!

Just as Helena was about to the turn the corner, rush to the fountain, and let her tears intermingle with the water, she came upon a young lord, sitting in the same place where she had intended to throw herself.  At least, she thought he was a lord, considering his handsome yet simple suit of gold silk (The fabric gave his already luminescent skin an other worldly, golden glow in the light of the full moon.)  She couldn't tell for certain though as she had not seen him at the party, but she was certain she had never seen him before.

The young lord, apparently, was just as surprised to see her.  He hastily stood up and made an equally rushed bow.  "Forgive me, Princess," he said.  "I didn't realize you were out here tonight."  His eyes went to her face, which was on the verge of cracking underneath a haphazardly crafted look of neutrality.  "Why are you so sad?"

"What makes you think I'm sad?" she spat, half nervous and half angered.  "I'm just surprised to find that there was someone else in the garden besides me.  That's all."

He made his way over to her carefully; his every instinct was telling him to embrace her, but he knew from the rumors about Princess Helena that she would rather be eaten alive than stay with a man who moved too quickly.  "Your eyes tell a different story.  And since I read faces fairly well, I can tell that you are trying to hide a swell of emotions behind a haphazardly crafted mask of indifference."

Goodness.  This lord was just as sharp witted as she was, and he didn't hesitate to show it.  Princess Helena sighed as she realized it was futile to lie to him. "If you must know, Lord..."

"Aurelio."

"Aurelio, I've run away from my own party because I can't stand the fact that everyone is making a fuss over something I have no say in.  Not to mention my former best friend has announced that she's pregnant with the child of the man I love most.  Prince Edward hated her at first, they say, but any fool could see that she is the fairest one of all, both within and without."

"A double disappointment to you I'm sure.  But even still, Princess Bianca loves you as a sister and a wonderful friend."

"What kind of friend would steal my prince and have the gall to get pregnant with his child?  I hope that she dies having that perfect child of hers."

Aurelio could no longer deny his emotions.  He pulled the princess into his arms, silencing her gawking mouth with his right index finger.  "You should not say such things, Helena," he said.  "You never know when they might come true.  I seem to remember someone once saying that the best place to find unexpected surprises is at palace balls on moonlit nights."

Was he clairvoyant as well as witty?  How else could he have known what Bianca had said?  As if reading her mind, Aurelio said, "Forgive me.  I just have a knack for predicting things like this.  Um..."  He stepped away from her and made another awkward bow.  "I'm sorry, Princess.  I should have asked before getting close to you."

Helena came over to him and put her arm on his shoulder, encouraging him to, hesitantly, put his other arm around her waist.  "For once," she said, "I don't mind the fact that a man moved faster than I'd like.  Your honesty and biting wit have helped me reign back what certainly would have been an emotional melt down."  She looked into his golden eyes.  "I would say that that is deserving of a dance."

"But... we don't have any music playing," said Aurelio nervously.

"As the poets say, we will dance to the music of our souls."

And so, the princess and the nondescript lord danced.  He stepped back and forth with her, easing into a moderate waltz rhythm that was echoed by the beating of his heart.  She spun gracefully around him in a way to rival the moon circling the Earth.  He dipped her; she twirled him.  They separated for a little while, stepping lightly and slowly on the stone-cobbled ground, while they eyed each other across the garden, as if contemplating their partner with every step.

When they came back together, they stared deeply into each other's eyes not saying anything.  In the distance, a clock started to chime.  "Princess, I cannot stay," said Aurelio.

"Then, at least have this before you go," said the princess.  And without another word, she slipped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and pulled him into a kiss.  That was how she had seen it done, and only now did she realize why it was done that way.  It felt as if she was falling and yet her feet were planted firmly on the ground.  Was this what love was?  She never got the chance to ask Aurelio because when she opened her eyes, he was gone.  And, she never saw him again.
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"I recall a night like this," said Mr. Gold, snapping Regina out of her thoughts.  "It was summer time, and you had just turned sixteen."

Regina blinked twice and then her mouth dropped open.  Just like he had on that night, Aurelio put his right index finger on her lips, even though she was too stunned to speak already.  "You gave me a dance, and my first kiss.  And for years, I wracked my mind as to what to get you in return.  And finally, tonight, I've come with the perfect thing."

Aurelio slipped his arms around Regina's neck, stared into her eyes and kissed her back.  Before Regina surrendered to the remembered, chaste passion they had once shared, she thought she saw her golden prince's skin illuminate in the light of the full moon.  Then, she closed her eyes and savored the feeling of his lips against hers.  There was nothing else to be done.